


In The Harsh Light Of Day

by dametokillfor



Series: From Dusk Til Dawn [2]
Category: Star Trek: Discovery
Genre: Feelings, M/M, Pining, Train of Thought
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-30
Updated: 2017-10-30
Packaged: 2019-01-26 06:35:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12551344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dametokillfor/pseuds/dametokillfor
Summary: Gabriel can’t do this. He isn’t good at this. He destroys the things he loves, and he can’t let Ash become another cynical ex, another lost friend. He can't taint Ash Tyler’s good heart with his bullshit. He can’t risk losing his potential CSO, because he’s too damn weak to keep his heart under control.---xIn which Lorca is the one dealing with his feelings, and things aren't much better during the daytime.





	In The Harsh Light Of Day

**Author's Note:**

> This fic disregards the theory that Ash is anything other than a precious Hufflepuff angel, because this author will disregard any theory that Ash is anything other than a precious Hufflepuff angel.
> 
> Let's also pretend Choose Your Pain and Lethe happened a little further apart than a week.
> 
> As ever, a special thanks to [areyouarealmonster](http://archiveofourown.org/users/areyouarealmonster), for helping me scream and thrash through things with her.

Ash had smiled at him, wide and pure as he’d left his ready room.

He'd run his hand across the tribble, and told him he'd see him later. Gabriel had asked if he was talking to him, or the tribble, and Ash had smiled and  _ fuck _ .

Gabriel Lorca is too old for this shit. 

He’s too old to go gaga over a pretty smile, and bright eyes. Too old to lose all sense of decorum and sanity, because the most beautiful creature he’s seen in years looks at him like he’s worth more than dirt.

He’s done that before, and that’s why the delightful Admiral Cornwell still gets a hefty chunk of his damn salary. 

He’s closed himself off, kept locked away. His dalliances with Landry, with Kat nothing more than letting off steam. Sure he held a fondness for them, he loved Kat once upon a time, and Landry was  _ something _ , but neither of them held his heart in their hands. Neither of them could destroy him with a single  _ no _ , or set him ablaze with a single look. 

But  _ Ash Tyler _ . 

Gabriel scrubs his hands over his face. He’s not thinking this, not doing this. Ash is a beautiful distraction, and he doesn’t have time for beautiful distractions.  _ Any  _ distractions, right now. He’s supposed to be working, and his brain is too full of romantic, foolish ideas about his newest crew member. 

Landry, Kat, they were easy. They all got what they wanted, nobody expected anything more, Gabriel carried on with his life, guilt free and without misguided notions of romantic dates by candlelight, or holodeck trips to fucking 1920’s Paris. 

Gabriel isn’t getting anything else done now, his mind is wandering. He locks his console and gets to his feet, grabbing his tribble - because Ash told him it must get lonely in his ready room all night,  _ fuck  _ \- and heading out. 

If it was purely physical, if Gabriel was just hard for those big dark eyes, that gorgeous mouth, that tall, slim frame, then it wouldn’t be such a problem. Gabriel would sleep with him, would get it out of his system and things would go back to normal. He’s done it before, he’s made it clear what he wants, any feelings that get hurt aren’t his problem.

Instead Gabriel is the one with  _ feelings _ . 

He’s completely bowled over by Ash’s resilience, surviving hell for seven months on a Klingon vessel and managing to come out swinging. His unwavering, instant loyalty, something Gabriel still isn’t sure he deserves from someone so good. He’s got the most pure heart he thinks he’s seen, he radiates goodness and beauty and it’s slipped past all of his defenses. He likes to think he’s just keeping Ash close to him because he’s a good soldier, because he can trust him. Unfortunately Gabriel is too old for self-denial and he knows it’s more than that.

Gabriel is head over heels, and he knows it. 

To make matters worse, he  _ knows  _ it’s mutual. His eyes might be damaged, but he can still see the way Ash looks at him. Ash looks at him like he’s something beautiful, something to be revered, rather than feared. It scares and thrills him in equal measure, and that’s exactly why it’s so bad.

Gabriel  _ can’t _ do this. He isn’t good at this. He destroys the things he loves, and he can’t let Ash become another cynical ex, another lost friend. He can't taint Ash Tyler’s good heart with his bullshit. He can’t risk losing his potential CSO, because he’s too damn weak to keep his heart under control.

Gabriel taps in the entry code for his quarters, and slips inside. The light is dim as ever, and he has to take special care not to fall over the new feature in the room.

He sits on the edge of his bed, tribble in his lap, and manages for a whole minute not to glance at the empty cot across from him.

Gabriel made a mistake asking Ash to stay with him. The cot barely fits into his quarters, there’s bruises on his shins to testify, and he’s already getting too used to falling asleep to the sound of Ash’s soft snores and whimpers. He still sleeps with his phaser, and he still has violent nightmares. He’s woken up more than once with it in his hand, drawn and aimed at the intruder. A snuffle from Ash, a quiet mumble of something about the pancakes in the mess hell in his sleep, and Gabriel has managed to stop himself from shooting him.

But it’s been fucking  _ close _ .

Ash sleeping by him, wrapped in his arms, putting all that damn trust in him? It would be as easy for Gabriel to kiss him good morning as it would for him to snap his neck, and he  _ can’t  _ risk that. 

He rubs at his face again. He needs to sleep, to rest before Ash gets back to the room and they have to talk. 

Gabriel does enjoy talking with Ash. The man is sweet, smart, funny and even a little goofy. He’s not let the trauma he went through dampen his sense of humour, and Gabriel admires that. They try to keep conversation light, but things slip through the cracks.

Gabriel knows Ash hated not having a father as a kid, but realised how lucky he had it with his mother when he got older. Ash knows Gabriel hates his name, because people expect him to be something good and pure.

Gabriel knows Ash thinks he is.

Ash had told him, and the air between them became charged and heavy. Ash had cracked an awkward joke, and things switched instantly but in that split second, Gabriel had nearly kissed him. He'd been overwhelmed with  _ want  _ and everything was so close to boiling over. 

He can't do that again. He can't break, not when he already feels so  _ weak _ . He's already stretched so thin, he can't give Ash everything he deserves. He can't make him happy the way somebody better could,  _ should _ . 

Gabriel shakes his head, to fight away the memory of the mess he and Ash have got themselves into. He needs to shower, and go to sleep. The ship is quiet, Saru will alert him to anything he may be needed for. He can be out before Ash returns and he can avoid another night of falling harder for this infuriatingly sweet man. (Gabriel can finally understand why Stamets speaks in snark to his significant other. Good men are so  _ frustrating _ .)

He places the tribble on Ash’s pillow, Gabriel think it likes him better anyway, and strips off his jacket. He lays it out across his bed, and heads to the small bathroom. 

Gabriel is impressed by his willpower, and his ability to stop himself from indulging in a quick and dirty fantasy about Ash. He still spends longer in there than strictly needed, lets the water wash over him and enjoy the quiet. A long few minutes where he can just be Gabriel Lorca, human disaster, rather than Captain Lorca, last hope of the Federation. 

It’s peaceful, the sound of the water hitting the floor and his body is soothing. His brain feels less clouded, and he’s almost calm. 

Ash slips into his mind again sooner rather than later, and tired and blissed out, Gabriel just gives himself a moment. One blissful, indulgent moment where things are different, and he and Ash are together. Just laying with him for hours, swapping slow lazy kisses just because, and gazing into his gorgeous dark eyes and wondering what he did to deserve someone so wonderful.

But he doesn’t. He opens his eyes, and the moment is gone.

Gabriel isn’t going to get his happy ending with Ash, no matter how much he wants it, no matter how much  _ they  _ want it. No matter how much he wants to give in, and take Ash into his arms when he walks through that door. No matter how much he wants to tell him he fucking adores him and would die for him if he asked, he just can’t.

They  _ can’t _ .

Gabriel gets out of the shower, rubs the towel over his hair, then wraps it around his hips, before heading back to the bedroom area, taking care to edge round the cot.   

He needs to get over this, and fast. His head needs to be clear to win this war, and with Ash around, that’s not happening. Ash makes him vulnerable, and he needs to be untouchable. He makes him weak, and he needs to be strong. He makes him soft, and he needs to be hard as stone.

Gabriel momentarily wonders about asking Kat if she can find somewhere for him, perhaps her own personal security, but he knows he couldn’t bear to let him go. He also knows Kat would see through him instantly, and politely request he  _ man the fuck up and kiss him already.  _

He needs to quiet his mind again, needs to go to bed, to sleep. He needs to sleep without Ash on his mind, to dream about anything other than how he would taste, how warm his skin would be under Gabriel’s own permanently cold hands, how he would die for him if Ash just said the word. 

_ Fuck. _

It’s a lost cause.

Tonight Gabriel will be haunted by nightmares of a different kind, tortured by bright dark eyes, quick hands, and teasing lips. He should be thankful for a change from the blood, the death, the brightness of the  _ Buran  _ but he’s learned how to deal with that. This is still too much, too hard, too new. 

He pulls his sleep pants on, and slips between the sheets of his bed. His hair is still damp, but he’ll worry about that when it’s fluffy and unbearable in the morning. He closes his eyes, and tries to clear his mind, to focus on the sound of the tribble cooing. 

He doesn’t properly fall asleep until he’s heard the door open again. Until he’s heard the soft footfalls of Ash walking through the room, and his quiet  _ fuck  _ when he bangs his own leg against the cot. He doesn’t sleep until Ash is tucked up himself, and he’s quietly snoring again, and mumbling about Tilly’s hair taking over the ship.

_ Fuck. _

  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Lorca is not an easy POV to write, yikes. 
> 
> Come squee with me on [Tumblr](http://leonardsnarts.co.vu/).


End file.
